


Sirenia

by potatoesarenotforsex



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Torture, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:01:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoesarenotforsex/pseuds/potatoesarenotforsex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is a marine biologist, called in to work on something unusual found off the coast of Australia. Dan is the last thing he expected to find. [PhandomBigBang2014]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [extryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extryn/gifts).



> “In still moments by the sea life seems large-drawn and simple. It is there we can see into ourselves.”  
> ― Rolf Edberg

"We really can't say." They seem to enjoy repeating the phrase every time Phil asks another question, pulling on some half-respectable looking clothing and flattening his hair a little as they march him out the front door, apparently unaware that it is usually considered impolite to wake a man at 3am and inform him that a member of the government wishes to talk to him. Particularly when said government is not his own.

The car is comfortable enough, and Phil shuffles about on the black leather, only bothering to grin at the suited man across from him once before settling back and watching the sandy coastline fly by them as they drive, lapping waves reflected in the ambient moonlight, creating a truly beautiful sight. Phil's never been one to argue with a primary school teacher, let alone an armed stranger in the middle of the night, so the wisest action seems to be to oblige these government members and see what they require.

The journey isn't too long, which is unexpected- Phil always made a point of staying far from the nearest city centre when on research trips. They turn down a dirt road and zigzag up into the rainforest, any vestiges of pale light swiftly obstructed by the thick foliage that arches over the road. A large, concrete building sticks up out of the greenery, and once Phil is inside it, he realizes the sterility and cold, metal surfaces are utterly incongruent with the nature outside. He's searched, and his phone and laptop are taken, by which point he's beginning to wonder just how far his compliance should extend.

Phil waits at a bare desk for only a few moments before two frowning men sit down opposite him. They place a sheet of paper on the table between themselves, which Phil quickly recognises as his own work resume.

"It says here that you studied at Cambridge, a degree in marine biology-"

"A doctorate," corrects Phil, "in field macrobiology- but that seems to intimidate employees, so I've just put my honours there."

He receives a long stare, but the disgruntled man eventually continues.

"Well then, Dr Lester-"

"Please," Phil interrupts again, "Phil will do just fine!" His beguiling smile doesn't quite placate the second man, who looks ready to stand up and walk out, but the first speaker clears his throat and soldiers on.

"We apologise for bringing you in on such short notice, and at a time like this, but this is a situation which has the potential to change the way we see humankind. Confidentiality and efficiency must be our priorities." He pauses, as if anticipating another comment from Phil, but none arises. The man clears his throat again (apparently a habit of his) and pushes a folder across the table to Phil.

"This is your contract with ASIO-" Phil makes a noise as if to ask a question, but is interrupted before he can make out a word, "The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, confirming your presence in this project and ensuring you will not speak of the events that pass within these walls to anyone or anything outside of them." Phil flips open the manilla folder and scans over the words printed within. It's all very ominous- refusal of re-entry to the country, federal prison for breaching international law, stripped of his qualifications…

"This is some serious stuff, isn't it?" Phil doesn't mean to smile, but he's finding himself wishing he wasn't the only person with a doctorate in field macrobiology to accept placement on this reef. There's nothing sneaky about the contract: it just states very clearly that if he breaks the conditions, his career, as well as his freedom, will be destroyed. Whatever they're trying to keep secret, Phil doubts there would be any reason for him to risk all that.

With a click of a pen, Phil flourishes a signature along the bottom line. The papers are instantly withdrawn, and the pair stand, Phil following suit a moment later. Not bothering to stifle an enormous yawn, Phil wishes once again that they'd let him keep his phone. Checking the time is one reason, yes, but as they movedeeper and deeper into the building, a form of communication to the outside world seems increasingly like a good idea.

Phil half-jogs to keep up with the men's rapid paces as they leave the room and hurry along a long corridor, passing door after unlabelled door. Phil presses his nose up against one of their small glass windows and spies a spectrometer and several empty tanks- so is this a lab? Catching up with quick, short steps, Phil tries to remember if there have been any papers he's come across from an unknown institution, but none come to mind. Either the work they perform here has all gone unpublished, or it was never made public- he's not sure which option is more preferable.

They round a corner and are greeted by another security checkpoint. This time, their little party doesn't barge right through the doors, instead waiting outside while Phil restlessly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and the suited men watch him with stony glares. Finally, a woman emerges from behind the doors, pushing large glasses back up her nose and untucking mussed hair from the collar of her labcoat. She greets them with nods and short words before grabbing Phil's file and scanning over it quickly.

She looks up at him, one eyebrow raised.

"You're seriously going to help us out and agree to all this?" Her tone seems surprised rather than judgemental, but Phil just shrugs.

"Yeah, sure? I mean, I have no reason not to, and it's got to be something interesting, given how ridiculous my night has been so far…" His voice peters out, but she's now grinning widely.

"That's… great. That's super great. I'm Jo; come on." She grabs his wrist, not waiting for a response, pulling him through the doors. "We're really having no breakthroughs, and we have no idea what kind of environment is suitable. The last thing we'd want to do right now is have this whole thing collapse or the specimen die-"

They stop outside a door as she keys in a code and presses three fingers firmly against a scanner pad.

"Specimen?" Phil echoes. The woman nods again, repositioning her glasses and tapping a foot as they wait to be let in.

"Yep. It was found in the Mindanao Deep. Some teams were doing scans and collections down a bit deeper than we'd gone before and they found this- I mean, it's nothing like we've seen before, but somehow their tank managed to bring it up alive. It seems to be doing okay in our aquarium here, unless we're secretly killing it but just haven't worked it out yet- oh, there we go!" The doors light up and slide open, letting them into the huge lab, which is locked behind them.

It's bigger and far more equipped than anywhere Phil's ever worked, with several enormous tanks, complete with heating, feeding and acidity regulators, benches covered with scopes and testing of that really holds his attention once he adjusts to the magnificence of the room and processes what he's seeing, right in front of him, thrashing and flapping it's tail madly against the edge of the large, glass tank in which it's being held.

"So this is-" His voice chokes are literally no words he can think of aside from the obvious, but that seems juvenile and unprofessional and, above all, absolutely  _impossible._

"Oh, yes." She claps him on the shoulder, hard. "You'd best believe it, buddy, even if I barely can."

A long, deep turquoise tail, scattered with royal purples and blues, beats at the glass, as if attempting to smash it open. It's beautiful and oddly compliments the slim, humanoid torso that follows just above, sculpted like a statue but too sinewed, skin a shade too purpley to look like a healthy person. Two strong arms form fists and join the attack on the glass. But most enchanting and terrifying is it's face- or rather, his face. Dark eyes blaze daggers down on everyone in the room, mouth open and expelling bubbles with subdued shrieks accompanying every beat against the glass. The angular jaw and cheekbones would make any supermodel jealous, but the large set of gills located just below the ears leave a picture too improbable for Phil to fully comprehend.

"A mermaid?" He manages to say, mouth dry and eyes wide.

"Technically, merman." She holds out her hand and shakes his, firmly. "I'm Dr Wilde, and this, this is gonna be a long night."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more."  
> \- Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid

"But that's- how? How did you find him?" Phil takes a step closer to the tank, resting his hand on the railing that greets him. There are two flights of steps down from where they are to where a group of scientists, flanked by several armed soldiers, alternate between arguing and flinching at the loud sounds of tail meeting glass. They seem wary, but hardly overly concerned.

"This wasn't at all a part of the brief - as far as I know, anyway, everything here's all blacked out and 'need to know' and just as crappy as the TV shows would make you believe." Jo joins Phil at the metal railing, folding her arms over the bar and leaning forwards. "They stumbled on him and, for whatever reason, they were able to capture him and bring him back." She shrugs, "If you ask me, I think this one was either kicked out of his family or ran away."

"Why do you say that?" Phil frowns, confused as to how she can talk about mermen existing as if it was a common occurrence. "Have they found other mermai-men, uh, merpeople before? How long has this been going on?" Most marine scientists understand that they can only comprehend a small portion of what the ocean's depths hold, but it's baffling to imagine that they could be so wrong about the possibilities that those waters could hold.

"Again, they don't say much, but judging by how freaked out everyone is, I'd say this is a first." She nods in the direction of a tall, dark man standing at the front of the pack, apparently trying to talk to three people at the same time. "That's Ty- Dr Jayawardena, but everyone calls him Ty. He's sort of in charge, well, both of us are as good as an expert as they can get, till we found you of course." She winks at him, but Phil is too entranced by the tank and its contents to notice or care.

"Right, yeah." He murmurs, watching the tail in its waves and motions, wondering just how strong it must be, how fast it could propel this extraordinary creature through the water. Everything about his lower half is perfect, an ideal marine creature- if not a little ostentatious with those glimmering scales and long, tapering tail. To have this chance to study and hopefully have close examination of the creature's swimming and physiological functioning is an unbelievably unique and invaluable opportunity. Yet Phil remains fixated with everything above the hips, those long elegant arms, streamlined but bare torso and the fierce, emotive, so very human face. They all contradict what Phil has learned and been taught about the ocean's inhabitants.

A memory from very long ago finds it's way to the surface of Phil's mind, and he lets it consume him as he stares blankly ahead. His mother sat beside him, turning the pages of a colourfully illustrated book, with great detail and love put into every expression on the extraordinary creatures depicted, from centaurs to chimera, dragons to djinn – and of course, mermaids.

"And mer- merboys," Phil had argued stubbornly, pointing out a young male, swimming along the border of the page, his stubby fingers tracing the curve of it's purple tail, "They aren't ladies at all!"

His mother had laughed, though not unkindly, winding a warm arm around his shoulder, "You're right, we can't forget the mermen."

It was two years later, after he started school, that she'd come across him crying on his bed, picture book open on that very same page, blues and greens melding as tears filled his eyes. The boys at school had found the book (it had been carried diligently around every day for some time without issue) and teased him to the point of misery.

"What's that?" She'd said, gathering him back into her arms, wiping away the tears, planting a soft kiss into the scruffy mess of his hair, "Who's to say those boys know anything about mermaids and mermen- and why they have to hide away from us?"

At this, the tears had stopped, and Phil just blinked up at her.

"That's right! They know that humans are terribly jealous of their pretty tails and magical kingdoms, so that's why they live deep, deep in the sea, where we can't reach them and where they're safe from silly boys like the ones at school- how can they know that mermaids don't exist? They've no more proof than you, and don't you let them tell you otherwise." She'd swept the fringe from his eyes affectionately, and Phil, still leaning up against the metal rail, unconsciously brings a hand up to his newly black hair.

Not a day goes by that he doesn't miss her.

Tucking the long strands to one side of his face, his brow suddenly furrows. The merman is no longer beating his tail, or swimming frantically, as he was only moments earlier. Instead, both hands are slammed against his ears, face screwed up in what Phil can only interpret as a look of utter agony. No longer swimming, he is floating down to the floor of the tank, his strong tail reduced to merely twitching slightly as he curls up on himself.

Phil's eyes dart quickly from the tank to the others in the room; something's changed. Everyone else is watching the tank, not apparently bothered by the mermans actions, more so curiously observing his actions. His gaze finally rests on the doctor that Jo had pointed out earlier, Ty, who is standing at one of the consoles, slowly but surely twisting a knob on what looks like- a sound system?

Before he knows what's happening, Phil's voice bursts from his own mouth, echoing across the room-

"Stop that!"

Several people look up at him, but not Ty. Phil's already at the staircase to his left, bounding down the metal steps two at a time and pushing people aside to get to the desk where Ty is standing.

"What are you doing!" Ty looks up at Phil, a little confused at his sudden appearance and distress.

"This?" Ty gestures to the tank, "It's just some high level soundwaves, they're going through the speakers all around the room, but humans can't hear it, don't worry. We're trying to see what frequencies it hears, to see if there is a way we can train or even possibly one day communicate with it. We're a bit concerned that-"

"Can't you see you're hurting him?" All politeness forgotten, Phil plants his hands on the table and springs over it, grateful for his lithe frame, and reaches over to switch off the entire console at the plug.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!" Ty's protests are ignored and, with a satisfying low hum, the equipment switches off. "Who are you?"

But Phil's already gone, darting back through the crowd and over to the tank. There's two hulking security guards keeping an unspoken barrier around the glass cube, but Phil doesn't see them or any of the gaping faces. Now that his face is right up next to the glass, he can't help but put a hand against it's cool surface.

The merman has relaxed, head cocking to one side as if making sure that the offending sound has entirely disappeared. The gesture is so familiar that Phil bursts into a smile at the sight of it, which only widens as the merman unrolls again, shaking itself as if to restore dignity or pride. Phil's joy is short lived, however, as he watches the prisoner swim its way back up the tank, muscles rippling and face more furious than ever.

"Now it's just back to where we were before, yep- there you go!" Ty has appeared just behind Phil as the onslaught against the glass begins again in steady bangs against the glass. "What on earth were you thinking boy? Who let you in here?"

Phil turns on his heel, furious.

"What were you thinking?! Why would you use high pitched soundwaves? Are you trying to torture him?" The words come spitting from his lips and Ty takes a step back, affronted by his ferocity.

"Torture it?" Ty corrected, "No, like I said, I'm investigating communication-"

"With that skin, we have pretty good basis to say he's a sea mammal, most likely deep sea yes?" Phil cuts across the man once again, all good manners well gone by this point. "Based on the vestibulocochlear structures of other cetaceans and sirenians, manatees and all that, his hearing is most likely going to be more complex than ours- I'd say its pretty safe to assume he's gonna have a heck more ganglionic cells in his ears and far larger auditory nerves than us."

He pauses for breath, but no one interrupts him. Other conversation has ceased entirely and all eyes are trained on him. A little more nervous, but no less determined, Phil bites his lower lip, then continues.

"That with a thicker basilar membrane, handy for deep sea communication, give him an exceptionally sensitive, exceptionally high hearing range- you blast that stuff from these speakers and you may as well be pouring acid into his water; investigation or not it's going to hurt like hell."

He pauses again, not sure what to say next, or if someone is going to challenge his suggestion, which is all based solely on theory and has absolutely no evidence based claims. Although he can't see him anymore, Phil can hear that merman is still beating at the glass behind him.

"What do you suggest then, Dr. Lester?" A crisp voice sounds from one of the corners, and a short lady steps forward in pointed heels, her white hair framing the edge of her jaw in a perfectly straight line. "Do you have a better idea?"

Phil swallows, biting down on his lip again, but it's not hard for a few ideas to come to mind. As Jo said, he's as good as an expert as they've got.

"Turn down the lights. Keep some of the safety ones on, red, but this has got to be part of the reason he's so distressed for sure." She nods, so he continues. "And get rid of all these people definitely, being surrounded by strangers is enough to make me want to break things sometimes."

Jo chuckles from up on the raised entrance, but she's the only one. The lady who spoke up raises an eyebrow, but gestures to one of the guards with a wave of her hand, and a few moments later the lights are dimmed down to the barest minimum and the room is plunged into eerie, almost-darkness.

"You heard him, everyone out of here." There are several noises of protest, but this woman is clearly the authority because she rounds them up swiftly, "Yes all of you, I only need guards on the door and hall, we have full surveillance outside nonetheless."

Soon enough, the room is empty and Phil is still standing in front of the tank, part bemused at how the past few minutes have panned out, part concerned that he really has no idea what he's talking about and perhaps it would have been wiser to stand in the corner and observe- but he's never been very good at that.

The room is almost silent, the last chattering of people fading out the door, and in the darkness Phil realises that the beating against the glass has also stopped. He spins around and looks up to see the merman floating in the water, tail and arms working together to cleverly maintaining his position in the small space. His face has changed, eyes are now open wide, darting around the room and ears flat back against his head. Most of all, the tense distress seems to have disappeared, for the greater part at least- his formidable shoulders are still rather taught, pulling back together.

"It seems that at least some of that was true then." The woman is now at the top of the room, next to the door. "I'll leave you to it, Dr. Lester. Report back to me after two hours and if you've got something that interests me, I might just let you run the science side of this mission." Then she, too, is gone, and they're alone together.

Phil's eyes trail over the merman's body, every detail far more surreal and beautiful up close. He watches the way the scales reflect, even the dim light in the room, twisting back and forth through the water in a corkscrew fashion. Phil's head falls forward and rests on the glass.

"I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I feel like us scientists are no better than those kids who stick pins in beetles in the park, only we say things cleverly enough that no one argues with us. That looked like it was really painful, but I promise I won't do anything like that to you."

He doesn't even realise he's talking aloud until there's a murmur in his mind, almost like a trickle of thought. It wedges its way between his musings and, in a deep voice, whispers to the corners of his mind:

"Thank you, Phil."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep."
> 
> ― William James

Phil's jaw literally drops open and he takes a step back, and then another. Those dark eyes are directly fixed on his own and, with a strong kick, the merman moves to be level with Phil, face to face through the glass.

"Oh no, I'm going mad. I'm going insane, or did you just-"

Again the voice comes, without his permission or understanding, sounding the words out silently to his mind, this time accompanied with a cool trickle of a laugh.

"Oh yes. You're not insane. Hello."

Phil just stares. He must be insane; he has to be.

"How can you..." His voice trails off, unsteady and unsure. This is him, talking to a merman.

There's no response and he stands there a moment longer, not sure what to do. The merman is unmoving, his eyes blinking occasionally, gaze fixated on him through the oscillating movements of the water.

With a sudden jolt of energy, Phil shakes himself. It must be the sleep deprivation; it has to be, he thinks. Walking to a nearby desk, he throws off his jacket, running his hands haphazardly through his hair. There's a file lying on the desktop, with the painfully cliché stamp "TOP SECRET" marking the cover. Phil had never imagined that top secret government agencies, if they even existed, would be so amusingly unsubtle about their information.

He sits on the edge of the desk, grabbing the file, and flips it open, his eyes darting up to where the merman is still floating at the edge of the tank, watching him. His eyes flick over the words, taking in the most important details, flipping over the pages as he goes. It was just a routine 'dip and strip' tour, going down into trench and collecting some of the plant and animal life to analyse for chemical make up, energy sources and a whole bunch of other reasons. Different specialities would come in and take different aspects of the collected marine life, using what they needed, and the whole lot would be either stored up in little tanks, frozen onto slides for further investigation or education, or dumped back. Phil knew about these kind of academic trips, of course, he'd even been on a few, not that he appreciated the way they destroyed an aspect of the natural environment in order to gain more information. His concerns about the invasive techniques of marine science usually did fall on deaf ears. They hardly had enough support, or funding, the way things were. Concrete evidence is what governments and research companies want, not pictures and hypotheses.

Phil looks back up at the merman, who is still watching him, and puts the file aside. Standing up slowly and taking a few steps back towards the tank, he clears his throat, feeling more that a little foolish. Even if it seems unwise and unlikely, it's worth a shot.

It's such a bad idea. "How can you put your words in my mind? Can you understand what I'm saying?" The words come out almost as a separate entity to Phil, who is busy watching those blue eyes blink and widen slightly at his words, the rest of the merman's face staying remarkably still and unyielding.

"It's hardly ideal to use words underwater." Phil's mind is filled with another cool laugh, more of the sensation of levity than the actual sound of laughter. It's like nothing he can quite describe, a brand new form of sensory input that is clear and tangible but completely foreign. The voice continues, "I can hear everything you say, but you'll understand if I'll keep my replies a little more silent. Not just for convenience."

The merman's eyes dart off Phil briefly and up to one of the security cameras. He doesn't have to say anything more for Phil to understand- handing over information about himself is the last thing this merman wants. He's clearly intelligent enough to comprehend that knowledge, particularly in a situation like this, is power.

Phil frowns.

"How do you know my name?" He keeps his voice to a low whisper.

The merman's lips twitch into a slight grin. "I can hear well, but my vision is also excellent." Phil's eyes flick down to the name badge that he was given at one of the security checkpoints.

"Oh." He can read too? He hadn't thought of mermaids having books (clearly the water would be a big issue) or even formal methods of written communication, but it's a question for a later time.

"What's your name then?" He blurts out, a little more demanding than intended. "Oh, I mean, if you have- er-"

"Dantaeius." The word trickles into his mind and Phil nods. It suits him.

He takes a step back, unconsciously beginning to pace a little in front of the tank as he thinks. Dantaeius' eyes follow him back and forth, small bubbles finding their way to the surface from the gills on his neck. Every so often, Phil glances back up at him, glowing eerily in the darkened room. His fascination at their differences has been completely outweighed by the striking similarities that have emerged from just a few words of conversation- if it can even be called that. He understands organised forces, the power of secrets, gratitude and inference- it is even possible that he and his kind are even more intelligent than humans! Their telepathic communication certainly gives him a developmental advantage that humans have no hopes of achieving anytime soon.

This is perhaps the most curious part for Phil. There are few legitimate scientific inquiries into the possibility of telepathic communication, and none that he's ever read and felt could be close to a reality. If he can send thoughts, does that mean he can hear Phil's? Reading thoughts surely can't be as simple as the comic books and films make it out to be; can he hear every single thought that pops into his mind, or are his memories and retained knowledge also free for browsing?

"Just the most prominent thoughts," The words come to Phil and he looks up to see that Dantaeius is eyeing him curiously. He pauses, as if trying to find the best way to frame his description. "Anything you project, that is currently at the forefront of your mind, I can hear. The memories, knowledge, that's all locked away for your accessing, but as soon as you do, it is shared."

Phil blushes. At these words, all the most terrible and embarrassing memories he has come rushing to mind.

"Oh god, don't- please don't listen right now okay?" His blush spreads furiously and Dantaeius just giggles again, slick smile almost teasing Phil through the glass.

"Anything you don't want me to hear, don't pay it attention and it will pass. The second you engage with a thought and question or provoke it, it screams across the room." His language is so communicative and eloquent, surely there is some equivalent of school for his people that taught him to organise and express so clearly.

"Listen, Danteu- erm, Dan-"

"Dan?" The questioning tone seems merely inquisitive, but his face is caught up in consternation.

"Can I call you that? It's like, a nickname, do you have those?" Apparently not, as indicated with a shake of the head. It's amazing how nature always manages to surprise him. Here he is, having a conversation with a merman who understands cognition and humour but has no concept of abbreviated names.

"Your name is long and tricky, no offense! But I'm just going to call you Dan, if that's okay." Dan makes no further protest, but continues to look confused, as if of everything happening, a nickname is the most incomprehensible aspect.

"How did you get here? I'm sure it must have been hard otherwise this wouldn't be the first time we'd have seen mermaids." He coughs, correcting himself, "Mermen, I mean!"

"You and the others do seem to have a predisposition to naming me as female," but Dan's teasing is gentle and he doesn't pause for an apology or explanation, the words just continue to flow into Phil's mind, and he closes his eyes a little as he listens, "We are certainly not an adventurous people, definitely not in the past few centuries as there have been more and more invasions in our land. We retreated, further and further into trenches, finding new homes in the coves there. They shelter us, and there is food, safety, comfort."

These words come with a warm, familiar sensation, that Phil can almost physically sense as it arrives. To say that Dan's words are equal to human speech is inequitable; there is far more sensory accompaniment that could be possible through speech and facial expression. It's almost as if Phil can feel the emotional weight of Dan's thoughts, as if his sense of attachment or attraction to the thoughts are transmitted along with the words.

Dan doesn't stop, the concepts coming in waves, not quite coherently. "I don't think it's a long term solution, the crafts that come down to investigate are only coming deeper and deeper- it's really a matter of luck rather than skill that we have avoided detection for so long – given that we can go much deeper, and survive, it's insanity to settle so close to the surface and just wait for detection-" His thoughts are a little harried, concern and frustration bubbling through. "I didn't even venture that far from our cove, where my people are, I just wanted to see if there was somewhere not too far down where we could start to move, or at least investigate food sources- I didn't even tell anyone I was going; I had no idea that you would be able to get down that far."

Phil doesn't have a response, not in words at least, to so much information all at once. It doesn't really call for an apology or explanation, because Dan seems to understand that humans were interested in collecting and understanding his people, hence the need to stay hidden.

There is a silence that passes between them, though not uncomfortably so. Dan paces, in his own way, kicking mindlessly around the confined tank. Watching him move, Phil can only imagine how much he must be yearning for the open sea. Watching as Dan's tail bends and flicks against the water, propelling him forward, Phil's eyes trail upwards to his humanoid torso and face. Those impossibly long, narrow arms and torso- how do they not freeze off in the deep sea temperatures? They look so similar to human arms, but there's something about those rippling muscles that doesn't quite match anatomically, as well as the strange skin, it's colour and texture unimaginably beguiling. Phil follows the pale, blue contours up, past the softly flapping gills, up to that strong chin and fascinating face.

It's here that he finds the connection. Here, he can see the pain and longing, the searching eyes and worried brow. For someone who didn't always get on well with people, the expressions of humans has never been a mystery to Phil. Perhaps that was part of the issue- people never seemed to appreciate his knowledge of their concerns. Marine life is somewhat easier, in that regard. It always seems so keen to share its secrets, it's treasures and wonders, with Phil. Only moments of talking to Dan have passed and he already feels like he knows him better than many of the humans with whom he shares a lab. There's still so much he wants to ask, so much curiosity unsatisfied scientifically- but, as he glances up at Dan, who has turned obliquely through the water, to face Phil in turn, he can happily smile up at him, and receives a friendly gaze in return.

"I know you can't possibly have an answer to this," starts Phil, "Unless you've got underwater MRI down there, but how does thermoregulation of the two halves of your body work? I mean, unless you've got a severely different lipid structure to humans, there's no way-"

"Whom on earth are you talking to?" The woman in charge has returned, her crisp voice sounding down from the observation platform up high. Phil spins on the spot, turning up to meet her stern gaze as he hears Dan begin to swim about in the tank, his movements through the water sounding hurried and agitated.

"Myself?" Phil offers, a tone of ridicule added for good measure. "Can I help you?"

Though the cameras had been blinking away silently in all corners of the room, Phil had mostly forgotten they were being observed. He could only hope that his exchanges with Dan weren't loud enough for any auditory recording devices to pick up.

"I just came to check up on you." She steps forward, resting two pointed elbows on the railing. "Have you been able to communicate with it at all? If you're having no more progress camping out here in the dark for an hour, then I'm rather inclined to let Ty come back in. At least we were seeing a reaction there."

Stay calm Dan, Phil thinks, as hard as he can, only hoping that Dan can hear him. He doesn't want her words to cause any reaction, lest they work out just how much Dan can understand what they say. But Dan doesn't alter, continuing to swim around the tank listlessly.

That's all good and well, but Phil is having some issues staying calm himself. He hadn't realised it had been an hour since they'd been left alone. Something about the way she calls Dan 'it' stings a little more than perhaps it should, but Phil does his best not to appear panicked and think of some way to get her to leave.

"Progress? Yes, lots of progress!" Phil grins, hard, trying to think of something believable but not interesting enough to be problematic. His eyes spot a pile of textbooks on a desk nearby. "Clearly he is more intelligent than we first thought, I've been able to teach him to respond with either positive or negative affect to certain stimulus."

She gives him a long stare, but says nothing, so Phil steps over to the desk and picks up one of the text books, flicking through it trying to find the pictures he wants.

"You have?" Dan's voice in his mind is amused, but short. His concern is not unwarranted. Phil tries again to focus his thoughts clearly- I'm sorry, it's all I can think of for now, just go with it okay? If they think you're as smart as you clearly are then they might try get some brain imaging or give up and go for a full vivisection and this seems safest- and as he turns around, walking back to the tank, Dan swims over to the glass, as if awaiting instruction. So far, so good.

Phil clears his throat, trying his best to sound autocratic.

"We have been working on a system of one tap for good, two taps for bad." He speaks clearly enough for both Dan and his observer to hear, "Working of the stimuli of other marine creatures in the area he was found that may have antagonistic or collaborative relationships with his species."

"So you think there are more of these kind of creatures?" She questions, angling her head slightly, "As opposed to a freak accident of nature, or perhaps scientific creation."

Phil hears a snort of derision, 'I'll show you what freak accidents look like-" and has to stifle a chuckle, holding up a picture of a killer whale.

"What we would assume to be an aggressor to his kind, that hunts similar species in the area, gives us…" Phil is rewarded by the deep thud of Dan beating his fist against the glass, twice. With a sigh of relief, thanking Dan silently for playing along with this charade, Phil flicks through the pages until he finds a picture of some sea cucumbers and holds it up to the glass.

This time there's a pause, and Phil watches his breath fogging up the glass as Dan's face contorts, indecisive, before finally yielding to a single knock on the glass. Phil doesn't wait to find out what the delay was, but turns back to face the woman, holding up the picture for her to see.

"The harmless sea cucumber gets a positive affect, the predator gives us a negative one. While it's only a beginning, clearly he has a higher cognitive function that most other sea creatures, as well as an alarmingly swift ability to observe and replicate. It's certainly worth further analysis, don't you think?"

She considers for a moment, and then nods. "It certainly is. Very well, continue with your work then Dr. Lester, and if there are any significant progressions or findings of note, tell the guards outside to contact me- Professor Desabres." Then she's gone, as silently and swiftly as she arrived.

Phil lets out a long sigh, spinning on the spot to see Dan watching him, drifting slightly with crossed arms. He looks a little irritated, but it's difficult to tell.

"What? I'm sorry, okay; I didn't know what else to do!" He shakes his head, tossing down the textbook, "I'm surprised she bought that, but it's enough to keep you here for now, which is best, isn't it?" He's rambling, the words tumbling over each other, but Dan's expression stays perturbed. A moment later, his reasoning comes floating through Phil's mind, "But those 'sea cucumbers' are so frustrating! Do you know how difficult it is to stop them from colonising our coves? And they always manage to eat the supplies before celebrations!"

He looks so bothered that Phil can't help let out a little giggle, which devolves swiftly into full on laughter, gesturing wildly with one hand, unable to explain why, out of everything, he cannot deal with a merman being irritated by a sea cucumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…to slip beneath the surface and soar along the silent bottom of the sea agile and shining in water honeycombed with light.”
> 
> \- Ellen Meloy

By the time Phil leaves, morning has well and truly come, hot sun glaring down at him through large windows as he is escorted out of the labs to an accommodation facility by a new pair of security guards. He was initially concerned that they might be wanting to get him out of the way to try something else, but when he asked for Professor Desabres, Jo had explained that she'd flown back down to Canberra, and that before leaving, she'd placed Phil officially in charge of the investigation. A little amused by his sudden power, Phil had sent everyone home to sleep, half because they must have been as exhausted as he was, half because he had no idea how to lead an investigation, and when Jo had suggested that he might want to do the same, it had seemed like a good idea.

Apparently being head of the group didn't mean that Phil was exempt from being escorted everywhere, or allow him to return to his actual home. All scientists involved were being housed in a series of rooms on the other side of the compound, each with a small bathroom and study area for their use. After being locked in, Phil was pleased to find the bed was relatively comfortable. More disturbing, however, was the small selection of his own clothes that had somehow found their way into the wardrobe, as well as his underwear, socks and shoes. They were apparently quite thorough about their relocation duties.

Although he had all the good intentions of resting up making thorough notes of his exchange with Dan, once Phil flops onto the thin mattress he succumbs all too quickly to heavy eyelids, dreaming of shining blue water and rippling scales.

He wakes up a few hours later, feeling cripplingly sedated and barely able to move his limbs- but then he remembers, and he's up in an instant. A shower might have been the next logical step, but Phil just opts for a change in clothing and grabs an apple to chomp on as he walks back to the laboratory, escorted by the ever-present, silent guards. His mind is far from their path, torn between excitement to see Dan again and wishing he'd done some research instead of just sleeping- but now that he was awake, the books could wait.

The guards leave Phil at the doorway and, surprising himself, he brazenly salutes them; once their backs are turned. Tossing the apple core into a bin, he darts inside. Even though he knows exactly what to expect this time, the way Dan shivers as he turns in the water, swimming around to face Phil, is beautiful and impossible and still utterly overwhelming.

"Hello!" He keeps his voice low, waiting until he reaches the tank to speak out. The sound of his voice is jarring, hoarse from lack of use. But Dan doesn't seem to think so, his face lighting up as it comes close to Phil's.

"I missed you." He replies. Phil grins, a warm happiness settling in his chest. He is about to reply, but pauses, inspecting Dan's face a little closer. His skin seems somehow less vibrant, dark circles weighing down beneath his eyes. Dan blinks back at him, answering the question before it's asked.

"I find it difficult to rest here, I'm sure you understand." He doesn't sound offended, but Phil immediately goes to apologise – he had a bed, a room of his own and the privacy of being human. Dan isn't so lucky.

"I'm sorry, you must be exhausted! I, erm, do you normally sleep?" The words tumble out with an inward cringe.

"Not as much as you, it would seem." Dan seems to pause, or isn't transmitting his thoughts loud enough for Phil to hear. Phil doesn't utter a word, trying to keep his mind clear and inviting, hoping Dan will keep talking, and he does.

"Humans sleep and wake as the sun moves, but we don't have such a regulated routine. We sleep when we need; it's always dark deep under the sea. I remember the first time I saw day change into night, up on the surface, it was extraordinary." He pauses, blinking slowly at Phil, then commands, "Close your eyes."

"Why?" asks Phil, but he does it anyway.

Behind his eyes, the darkness settles into a hazy mesh of indistinguishable silhouettes. He tries to pick out shapes, or familiar lines, but before he can isolate any clear picture, the black hues merge to become blue, and all of a sudden- he is rushing through the water, powerful tail sending the water rippling down along his shoulders and back as he kicks his way to the surface, red-orange sunlight refracting down through the clear water. There's a flurry of bubbles against his face as he bursts through the water's edge, the warm sunlight hitting his face as he takes a deep gasp of the chilling air, filling his lungs and mouth with the taste of it.

Finding a balance between his motions, he rests at the top of the surface, hair slicked back and skin tingling in the still air, eyes fixated on the swiftly disappearing sun as it slips behind the horizon, staining the sky as it falls. The impossible colours are left behind, purples and pinks streak the clouds and- suddenly he's back in the lab, eyes open and blinking away tears he'd never noticed forming. Wiping them on the edge of his sleeve, Dan slowly comes back into vision, floating before him as he was before, looking just as startled as Phil.

His head feeling rather muddled, Phil backs away a little, collapsing down onto one of the chairs and waiting for the room to stop tipping. He shakes his head, frowning, and looks up at Dan.

"What was that? How did you- I could feel the water and the cold and everything!" The room feels unnaturally warm, despite his light clothing, and Phil wonders if it always feels this way to his friend.

"I-I'm not sure, I've never done that before." Dan seems excited rather than concerned, which must be a good thing. "Perhaps it's because you've no defence mechanisms set up, even just the familial ones we make out of habituation, but I've never heard of someone communicating properly with a human, so perhaps the ability to share memories is not unique, but the situation where it might be possible is rare." With an arch of his neck, Dan stretches out both arms, rolling his neck and exposing the skin beneath his chin. Phil watches as the thin slits of his gills ripple gently, slowly wheeling the chair a little closer to the glass. Dan lowers his arms and adds, "And I don't eat as regularly as you either, one feast will last us for a long time, so we clearly have different methods for energy conservation."

Phil nods, rubbing his temple with one hand.

"It makes sense that you'd have to have some amazing form of insulated storage, given your build and the temperatures you must be exposed to!" Dan just watches him, so Phil decides to pry a little further. "Do you feel the cold?"

"Yes." Dan kicks off, his tail undulating through the water as he makes a small round of the tank, but his words continue to flow, "I feel the cold on my skin, and the deeper I swim, the cooler it gets, particularly if the dive is very quick. You humans can go into the ocean and not perish from the cold yes? You have a system for dealing with the change in temperature, and so do we, but clearly ours is superior." Phil swears he can hear the smirk in Dan's words, and makes a disgruntled face.

"Hey, you've got the tail and the gills, I think we're doing alright!" He sticks the point of his tongue out at Dan's back, but doesn't pull it back quickly enough to hide it when Dan's flips around quickly, raising his eyebrows at what he sees.

"Your skin is inadequate." He grins, swimming back towards Phil. "But I agree, your bodies are designed for the land, not the sea. You are unable to breathe in the water, and it's quite possible that by swimming there you may drown. Why, then, are humans so fascinated with being in water?"

It's a fair enough question, and Phil has to think for a moment before answering. It's been a long time since he's been able to have an open, interesting discussion with an objective partner, and he's relishing the taste of it. His medical background is sparse at best, he's never been that interested in humans, but he's pieced together enough on evolution to make an effort.

"I suppose we are born swimming- in our mothers womb, in the fluid there. And there's the theory that we evolved from marine life to start with anyway, I'm sure we have a common ancestor somewhere back there." At this, Dan inclines his head in agreement. "But we have no way of surviving in water, not really. Even in vitro, the nutrients and oxygen are filtered down from the mother's haemoglobin, so unless we can work out a way to have an alternate supply to oxygen underwater, there's the first of many problems standing in the way. But you're right, we are fascinated, surely beyond the ritualistic and hygienic aspects of swimming- I remember bath time being one of the highlights of my youth!"

Dan chuckles, small bubbles escaping from between his lips, messily making their way up to the surface. Phil's about to ask why, but then a memory of his toy duck, bright yellow plastic, floats up to the forefront of his mind. Rolling his eyes, Phil furiously attempts to think of something else, but once the thought has planted, he can't seem to shake the image away.

"I can see why it was a highlight, did you really find bubbles to be so unbelievably exciting?" He's laughing now, fingers moving to cover his mouth, and he looks so amused Phil can't help but join in.

"Not all of us have actual fishy friends to swim about with!" At Dan's questioning eyebrow, Phil projects an image of another of his earlier memories, curled up on the couch watching 'The Little Mermaid', as she swims about with singing fish and crabs. At this, Dan bursts into laughter again, his eyes screwed shut with the effort of it.

"Is this how you see us? Truly?" His laughter wears off and he shakes his head, "Well I had no such reference for humans, other than stories and sightings, but we were always amused by your strange coverings." He makes a gesture to what Phil is wearing, who immediately feels self conscious about his choice of clothing. The baggy t-shirt and old jeans were more than reasonable for working alone in a lab, but they were hardly worthy of representing the choice of the human population when it comes to getting dressed.

"Other people have all kinds of fancy clothing, this is just-" He ruffles his hair, uncharacteristically nervous, "It's just what I wear! It's not very cool you know? Not very accepted."

"Ah, that I do understand, often others don't accept that we need to think beyond the way we live now, they don't agree with my concerns for the future." He shrugs, a small flash in his eyes betraying emotions his calm and steady voice can contain. "They have their family and there is no way they can imagine it being any other way. My parents died when I was only young, there was an illness that spread to many in our tribe, but I was not affected." His words come too quickly for Phil to offer condolences, "That was all I knew back then, being alone and waiting for the news that they were better, swimming and smiling, but it was not to be. So I cannot imagine life without the possibility of disaster and destruction, perhaps both our views are flawed to that respect."

There's a silence, comfortably, and Dan seems lost in thought, so it's a few moments before Phil speaks up.

"I'm not sure if it's entirely the same, I mean-" He snorts, "Of course it's not. How could it be! But growing up, it was just me and my mum. She was everything, really everything. I'm lucky, I know, I had her by my side for twenty-two years, I don't know where I'd be if she hadn't been there. Then one day it was a positive mammogram, and then chemo and radiotherapy and hospitals all the time," Dan is watching him attentively, so Phil focuses on memories of the sterile, white corridors and the way the nurses smiled, knowing just how little there was they could do to help. "Sometimes I wonder if she stayed around so long for me, not for her. It was so painful, I know that, even though they gave her lots of medications and she always said it was fine." He sighs, "It's hard to do all this and not be able to call up and tell her everything that's happening and hear about her day too. She was the one who taught me about the ocean and everything amazing inside."

Phil suddenly smiles, "You know, one of the only things I have left of my mother's is a book she gave me when I was very young." His accommodation was small and so packing had been restricted, he'd never intended to stay longer than the study required. But, despite that, he'd been unable to leave without packing it. "It's about mermaids, and mermen I guess, and it doesn't really have a plot, just lots of beautiful drawings – it's silly, I know, but it always gave me the feeling that there was so much more to life than we understood, and that made it less sad." He shakes his head, feeling a little foolish, "Does that even make sense?"

"Yes, it does." Dan's eyes drift up, above Phil's head, his face softening as he remembers. "Though I don't remember much, my parents gave me a necklace when I was very young, it has been in our family for years. Ornaments are not usually worn, unless it is of hierarchical significance or a valuable heirloom."

"So it's valuable then?" Phil reasons, wondering what kind of gem it could be.

"Both. It's a shell that hasn't been seen anywhere else in many years, originally just collected as a thing of beauty to present to a lover, but it was passed down through the generations and someone eventually wove a chain for it to sit on. And," Here he pauses, as if regretting an earlier confession, but his eyes meet Phil's and he continues, "And I am next in line to be leader of our group. Therefore it is not only my right but also my responsibility to distinguish myself to the others, as their leader and someone they can always approach, always trust. I've been wearing the necklace since I was young and assumed my role not long after I could swim alone."

Thinking about what it must mean to be a lead for Dan's people, Phil is surprised by Dan's tone. "That sounds like a pretty heavy burden to have, do you ever wish someone else could be next in line? Not that you wouldn't be great! But it sounds like a big load to deal with, especially alone." He winces at his last word. But Dan seems unfazed.

"It is the greatest honour I could hope to receive. It is a judgement of my temperament and a trust in me that has been decided by many elders. I have definitely questioned this judgement many times!" He laughs and Phil joins in with a giggle. "But ultimately it gives me a place to be and a path, even if my parents are no longer here to guide me along the way. It's as if by wearing it, I can feel them with me, even though that is just my mind and not physically possible, but it's nice all the same."

At his pause, Phil bites his lip, gaze wandering down to Dan's bare chest.

"I lost it, or it was taken from me, at some point between the ocean and this… tank." The last word is envisaged with an injection of hatred. "I think they might have taken it off me, but it was bright and loud and I can't quite remember. It was the only thing I ever had of my parents other than distant memories..."

"I'll ask around." Phil doesn't need to be telepathic to know that's really what Dan is asking. "I promise if it's here I'll find it."

Dan stares at him, his eyes trained back on Phil's, unnerving and unwavering. "Thank you. Maybe you could take some images and try to work out what happened to their species?" Dan smiles, properly, a spark of excitement igniting, "Maybe we could work together and see if they moved somewhere else, maybe we could find more of the shells once I get-"

He cuts off mid-sentence, as there are two knocks on the door, and it opens with a clear voice sounding down from above.

"Phil? Are you in here?"

"That's me!" Phil turns around to see Jo leaning over the railing, looking more solemn than the last time they'd met. "What's up?"

"Nothing! Nothing, can I just ask you something quickly?" When Phil nods, waiting, her eyes dart to Dan and then to the security cameras, and Phil gets the hint. "I'll be right up."

"Thanks." Then she's gone, darting out the door as if staying in the room any longer would endanger her somehow. Apparently, stupidities and misconceptions that the other may have given her about Dan seem to have altered her enthusiastic approach from earlier. It seems like an unlikely occurrence, perhaps he can talk it through with her and prove Dan's worth and-

"Go," Dan's voice is warmer than before, trusting- "I'll be right here when you get back, don't worry."

"I wasn't!" Phil replies, but he turns back at the door, just for a second, to get a last glance of Dan, curling backwards gracefully. Their eyes meet for a second, and in their shared glance are the secrets of possibility, slowly but surely unravelling.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The sea does not like to be restrained. "
> 
> ― Rick Riordan

Phil steps into the corridor, closing the door behind them. Jo seems unsure where to start, so he leaps in instead.

"I know, I know, I need to let the others in too, but it's hard not to want to just make observations for days on end. Can we even grasp how perfectly impossible he is?" Jo smiles wanly, agreeing, but it doesn't quite meet her eyes. Compared to the vivacious, bubbling girl he met yesterday, she seems distant and a little sad. "What- what is it?"

"The others, it's not that they think you're excluding them, it's more," She falters, picking her words so as not to shock Phil, "They don't think there's much to be learned from observation that can't be analysed in a much more, er, visceral way." She stops, wetting her lips and waiting, as the understanding of her words spreads over Phil.

"They want to slice him open," He states flatly. Even without any medical equipment to confirm it, Phil is sure his blood pressure is rising sky high at the very thought of it. "It's barbaric, and cruel, not to mention completely wasting valuable information that could be gained from observation and communication." He wants to mention that there is no way they're pulling Dan down to the anatomy labs, over his dead body more like, but maintaining Jo on his side is more important than giving her reason to question his priorities.

"I know! It's mad, I think they just don't know what to do with a freaking mermaid being dumped before them." She looks tired. Phil almost wants to give her a reassuring hug, or something comforting, but he's too busy playing the word 'visceral' over and over in his mind until he's almost ill at the thought of it. "Phil? What are we going to do?"

Phil blinks at her, "We?"

Jo rolls her eyes, "Just because I don't get private time with the merman doesn't mean I also want him chopped up like some steak by those muscleheads! There must be a way we can delay them, or make it a no-go zone. It's just that while the Prof is away, I don't think you have enough authority to stop them, not really-" She pauses, reconsidering, "Sorry, I don't mean that as a criticism of your technique-"

"No, no it's true," Phil concedes, "They have no reason to listen to me either. And I doubt the guards are going to be much help." He needs more time to think about this, it's all happening too quickly. "Listen, let me just pop back in there and grab my notes and- stuff. I'll meet you back at the rooms and we can work out what to do?" He doesn't know how to say it better, but they need to make some kind of plan, and fast.

She shrugs, and Phil gives her a quick squeeze, grateful for her warning and for being on his side. She gives him a small smile, and is about to leave when Phil stops her.

"Hey, did anyone mention if they found anything else at the same time as Da- as the merman?" Jo seems to notice his stumble, so he presses on, "Like, any other objects they picked up with him, anything we can use to build a case for further observation."

"I'm not sure, honestly! There's a little tank by the wall where they were keeping the water they brought him up with and doing some sampling for acidity and spectrometry, maybe check in there?"

Phil nods, "Thanks, I will!" He turns and heads back into the room, not waiting for her to leave.

"Phil!" Dan's delight is unmistakable as Phil hurries down the stairs, and he smiles up at Dan, trying to sweep all thoughts of what Jo just told him out of his mind. He is clearly unsuccessful, because Dan's glee is short-lived and he swims over to Phil, eye's narrowed with concern. "What are you so worried about?"

"You're in danger," He starts, "They want to start doing more… experiments on you, so I need to find a way to keep you safe."

Dan falls silent, his tail swinging from side to side. It's a short while before he comments again, and the words are so quiet in Phil's mind that he has to concentrate to pick them up. "…but you'll keep me safe, won't you Phil? It's worked so far!"

The fear in his voice makes Phil want to give him a great hug, just to give him a moment of safety, but it's an impractical and uselessly sentimental thought, so instead he explains, "They want to slice you up, and even if I'm meant to be in charge, if enough of them get together, I can't physically stop them." He's not sure what to say next. He has no great plan yet, no way to save Dan from this impending horror, but he so desperately wants to help him.

With no warning, Dan kicks off and begins swimming around his tank once more, vivid strokes propelling him swiftly through the water. Phil's mind is silent and void of any input from Dan, and for the first time, it feels a little lonely with just his own thoughts. He's only shared his mind for little more than a day, so there's no telling how different it would feel to combine your thoughts with the rest of your community for your entire life- or how devastating it would be to suddenly hear only silence where your friends and family used to constantly be. He watches Dan swimming, each stroke, purposeful and determined, from one corner to the next, as if he can somehow escape his fate if he tries hard enough.

Phil leaves him for the moment, heading over to the tank Jo had mentioned. It was just as she'd said, filled with freezing cold water, with several probes and measures sticking out of it at varying angles. The tank itself contains only water, but next to it there's a small box. Phil pries the lid open after a few attempts and several nails lost, but when he spies what is inside, the pain in his fingers is forgotten. Amidst a few clumps of algae and several stones is a beautiful shell. It twists elegantly along its length, a kaleidoscope of different browns, from bronze to golden to a deep, earthy tone. A long string has been cleverly crafted by weaving together string-like seaweed, and it's looped through a small puncture in the top of the shell, forming what is unmistakably a necklace. Phil is surprised that this never appeared in the report, or was even mentioned. Of course, under the circumstances, the scientists at the time were still probably in a state of shock, too overwhelmed to bother digging around in the remains of their abnormally fascinating trip.

He scoops it up, placing it carefully in one of the feeding containers for the tank. Walking back over to Dan, Phil can see that he is still agitated, if only by the all too calm way he is swimming. Placing the container down, Phil reaches up and places one hand against the glass.

"Hey," He leads, softly, and when Dan doesn't respond, he continues anyway, "What about if we transferred you to my personal laboratory?" Dan shoots him a look, but doesn't stop swimming. "I promise it's nothing like this, it's all marine life and the very best equipment so I can adjust the environment to be anything you'd like. It might be hard to convince the government to let you move but I'm sure, if I push it, we could make it happen."

There is still no response from Dan, but he's stopped swimming around, and he floats over to where Phil is. He hasn't said no yet, so Phil decides it's a thought worth pursuing. He hasn't really considered the logistics of it, or even how to convince the institute to make it happen, but there's no way they're getting Dan out of that water on his watch.

"I know it's not ideal, but it's a start. And I can bring in some food you'd actually enjoy, and maybe even some of the flora from your area? We'd be able to chat properly too, without cameras or interruptions. There's so much more I can tell you about humans, and I'm sure there's lots I could learn from you!" Phil can hear that his voice is only getting more strained and desperate but he can't help it.

"I-" Phil is so surprised by the gentle sound of Dan's voice that he almost lets out small cry, he's been waiting so keenly to hear it, but manages to stay quiet, straining for the rest of the sentence. "That sounds lovely Phil, it really does, but I really just want to get back to my people, to my home."

Of course he does. Phil doesn't know why this realisation is so upsetting; it's the only obvious successful outcome that Dan could aspire for. He'd been foolish to concoct some idealised learning relationship, all the while Dan being stuck in a tiny space, away from his home and his community. But, even just for a short while, Phil thinks it could be marvelous. An interspecies conference, almost! He feels a little foolish to be so disheartened by Dan's response, as if it's somehow a personal rejection. Remembering Dan's abilities, he quickly crushes this thought, praying Dan didn't hear it, but the merman in question still seems distracted, gazing off into the distance, when Phil suddenly has another thought.

"Oh! I- I didn't even think to ask." And why should he have? There's no reason that Phil would need to know such personal information, no rational or scientific reason at all. But Dan must have already heard it, because he finally meets Phil's eyes and smiles wistfully.

"There's no one special waiting for me, not in that kind of a way." Phil flushes, not needing to be privy to this information. He's not sure if the relief is because he's not somehow accidentally offended Dan, or because Dan's talking again, but he latches onto it.

"No one special? Do your people have, er, partners," he inwardly curses his awkwardness, flush deepening, "or mates, or whatever you call it?" Shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, his eyes flit around the tank, unable to hold Dan's unbroken gaze.

"We do." That's all he reveals, unaffected and apparently waiting for Phil to say something next. Suddenly feeling, as he is the one trapped in a tank, Phil stutters, "I- I don't have anyone either, in case you were wondering. Not that you would be." He stops talking, for once grateful to have the sense that he's being an idiot.

Dan stretches out his arms, tracing a single finger slowly down the glass. Here, he looks so perfectly poised and elegant that Phil suddenly has the oddest desire to capture the image somehow; a high definition photo perhaps, or an oil painting. It's such a strong and bizarre urge, and a moment later it's gone. Luckily for him, Dan appears to have not noticed anything, his attention seeming focused on watching his finger complete the stroke.

"I am so very grateful to have met you, Phil, and to have shared these past two days with you," Dan moves closer, his eyes eerily unblinking, dark brown and stunning amongst the blue, "I cannot tell you what it means to have found an ally- a friend. But this is not my home; it's not where I belong."

Phil doesn't doubt for a second that Dan is telling the truth, and he dips his head in acknowledgement of Dan's praise, smiling back at him.

"No, no you're right. It's absolutely been my privilege," he replies softly, "And I understand. Give me a few hours and I'll see what Jo and me can come up with, okay? There's got to be something we can do." Without waiting for Dan to respond, he turns and picks up the container. Dan looks like he wants to say something else, but this gives him reason to pause. As he watches, Phil walks to the corner of the tank and pushes the container through what was designed as a feeding hatch. After a moment, the chute seals on Phil's side and unlatches on Dan's side, with not a drop of water split.

Dan swims down to where the container has come through, at first concerned but the furrowed brow is soon swapped for a delighted smile as he sees what is sitting inside it. He pulls out the necklace between both hands, admiring it for a moment, the shell softly floating through the water before his eyes, before pulling the length of the seaweed chain over his head. When he looks back down to Phil, he appears somehow different, somehow stronger.

"Thank you, thank you," The words echo through their minds, and Phil gives him a small smile.

"You look beautiful." He says.

He looks long enough to watch Dan's mouth fall open, the tiniest bit, and then he turns around, making his way up the stairs. There's a soft trickle in his mind, and he knows that it's Dan trying to say something, but if he focuses his mind and makes himself remember the colours of Dan's tail, one by one, it seems as if somehow he can stop anything else getting in. Turquoise, cerulean, teal and royal blue, the way the purple ones would hide most of the time, but then suddenly you'd spot them like a hidden treasure, the Dartmouth green that was somehow tangled up in there too; he thinks of them all, one by one, each scale of that magnificent tail, until he's out the door and down the corridor, and he's certain that Dan can't hear him anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "-for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)  
> it's always ourselves we find in the sea."
> 
> ― E.E. Cummings

For two whole days, Dan is alone. Of course, he is never truly alone; the blinking security cameras are enough to remind him of that. But no one comes through the doors, even just to stare. Not any of the white coats, nor the security guards, and Phil doesn't visit, not even once.

Maybe he's not coming back? Maybe they've captured him too, and are subjecting Phil to the kind of experiments that were previously his. He imagines Phil's face contorted in pain, or worse, his skin slowly bleeding as they slice him and torture him for information. The images are painful even to imagine, and Dan knows this is, of course, extreme and sensational thinking, but he can't help it. He's worried.

With no sign of Phil, or anyone else for that matter, Dan begins to wonder if there's any way he might be able to escape on his own. He has no idea how far away they are from the shore, and transporting himself on the shore, while not entirely impossible, is highly impractical and unlikely to succeed. Perhaps he can employ the assistance of someone else here, like the woman Phil was talking to, who seems friendly enough. But from what he's seen so far, it's more common for these people to fear, or belittle him, and it's unlikely any of them will be as generous and empathetic as Phil has been.

Improbable plans spinning in his mind, clouded by hunger and ever-growing exhaustion, Dan can't tell for sure how long its been before the door creaks open overhead. Instantly revived, he swims up to the top of the tanks, making out a few figures coming through the door and-

"Phil!" It's all he can do not to grin with wild relief at the familiar face, but there are others there, and Phil seems to be concerned about them. Instead he swims about, his gaze transfixed on the group as they make their way down the stairs, and he listens.

Phil's mind is abuzz with concentration on every little detail of his movements, from the number of steps to the different textures of desks and containers he passes on his way across the room. Dan's frustration wells as he cannot discern a single word of communication, and he smacks a hand up against the glass, hoping to get his attention. Phil just continues on his path, although some of the other humans turn to Dan, faces terrified and alien.

As they gather around a table, Dan suddenly captures a single thought, the tone of the words achingly familiar, "Trust me." And so, he does.

They converse in hushed tones for a few minutes, Dan picking up something about trucks and sun and a brief argument on why Phil needs to do what he's doing. Phil stands tall and his hands speak with authority, and before long the other men and women are nodding along with him. Despite this cool and directive facade, even from where he is across the room, Dan can see the slight, nervous tapping of Phil's foot. He backs off, distracting himself as he twists back and forth through the water, remembering a few of the more unusual corals from near his home, pulling through old memories of their texture, colours and growth patterns. It's engaging enough to tide him over until the others leave and they are finally alone.

Phil runs over to the tank, his hands pressing up against the glass, apologies unsaid as their faces come eye to eye once more.

"We don't have much time; they'll be back soon." Dan nods.

"Are you okay? Did something happen?" Phil smiles at his concern, but waves it off.

"It's taken a little while to get it all organised, but nothing bad has happened, I promise." Dan can see that he's telling the truth, but Phil has already started explaining himself anyway. "They still want to kill you. But even if I couldn't change their minds on that. I organised for 'sun exposure' trials to be done first, because there's no reason that would damage any of the testing they wanted to do. They're going to take this tank up to the cliffs to catch the early sunrise somewhere where no one else will see, so we can study how your body reacts to the sunlight and how long it takes before you get, well, badly burnt." He nods to the smaller tank. "But what they don't realise is that you're actually going into that tank, and you're coming with me."

"How?"

Phil doesn't answer right away, pausing a moment by the tank and watching Dan. Then he turns and heads across the room, where he rummages through a pile of clutter, pulling out two enormous swathes of black material.

"With these. They're strong enough to keep the sun out when we need to transfer creatures between facilities," He tries not to cringe at the word 'creatures', but he cannot deny that a week ago, that is how he would have thought of it. "They're completely opaque, and technically no one should be lifting it to check you're actually under there and risk ruining the experiment- so no one will know you're not actually where they expect you to be. You're gonna be in this one, on the back of my truck." He indicates to the smaller tank.

Dan tries his best not to sound sceptical. "How do I get in there?"

"That," replies Phil, "Is where we're going to need a little help."

Suddenly, the hum in the room falls to complete silence and Jo comes bursting through the doors.

"Done. We have about five minutes before the backup power boots the security cameras back on. We have to move fast." She scurries down the stairs, joining Phil by the smaller tank, pushing it towards the larger one. They frantically crank the platform beneath it up high enough so that the two tanks are level and, at Phil's encouraging nods, Dan swims to the top of the water and, with a small whip of his tail, hops from one to the other. His arms slam down onto the glass base of the smaller tank, with barely enough room to contain his leap; the platform shakes treacherously but thankfully, the tank remains securely on top.

As they lower it back down, Phil meets Dan's eyes for a moment, and Dan is greeted with sentiments of remorse and apology, but doesn't dare to smile in front of the other human. Moments later, the heavy black cloth is pulled over his tank and the world goes dark.

Dan can't see the activity outside, but there's a whirr as machines buzz back to life, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. He can't quite focus on what Phil is thinking, but he can hear what the new humans are saying.

"-technical malfunction, happens sometimes around these parts. There's not really a steady electrical supply, but the Prof would hear nothing of it." It's a rough chuckle that follows, and there is more than one new voice joining in.

"Perfectly understandable." That's Phil's friend, her voice steady and calm. "Now can you get a couple of your boys to hoist the big tank onto their truck? I'll be travelling with it to oversee the setup and to ensure that there's no contamination of the measured exposure.

"And you'll be going with the other one Dr Lester?" Phil must have replied non-verbally, because a few moments later there is a flurry of activity and suddenly his tank is moving.

"Careful!" That's Phil. "We need to have as little spillage as possible, if you can, please."

With shudders and creaks, Dan can feel the tank moving, water slopping from side to side, but can still see nothing. Eventually he comes to a halt, holding his breath as he hears Phil's friend call out her farewell, before there is a churning noise of the engine, the slamming of doors and they're moving again, but smoothly this time.

Then, when he's least expecting it, he can hear Phil again, sliding into his mind with growing ease-

"We're going to get you home."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you swim effortlessly in the deep oceans, ride the waves to and from the shore, if you can breathe under water and dine on the deep treasures of the seas; mark my words, those who dwell on the rocks carrying nets will try to reel you into their catch. The last thing they want is for you to thrive in your habitat because they stand in their atmosphere where they beg and gasp for some air."
> 
> \- C Joybell C

Small beads of sweat are accumulating on the corner of Phil's eyebrows, despite the rapidly setting sun and the oncoming night cooling the air. He silently grips his folder, a million fears running through his mind. How long before someone realises that they've been tricked? Surely the driver was suspicious of his heavy load, or at least wary of Phil's nervous behaviour. He eyes off the bulky man, doing his best not to move his head too much, but the driver is drumming along to AC/DC on the radio, looking out the window and appearing to be as unconcerned as Phil could hope.

Every second is an agony, but Phil waits as patiently as he can, carefully watching the clock until they are 30 minutes out from the research centre. Then he speaks up.

"Er- Sorry, I know this is very inconvenient, but do you think you could maybe pull over for a moment?" His words are timid but perhaps that's for the best because the driver gives a hearty chuckle, slapping him on the back.

"S'all good mate, call of nature comes to us all." He pulls the truck over to the side of the road, cranking the brake and folding his arms behind his head. "There you go." His eyes are closed a moment later, apparently basking in the last few rays of sunlight, and this is when Phil attacks.

Pulling a taser from where he concealed it in his notes, Phil takes a deep breath, praying for the man's eyes to stay closed, and reaches forward, pressing the weapon to his skin as he activates the electrical current. It's far less elegant than he'd imagined it to be, and the driver writhes for a moment or so, knocking his hat off in the process, and then lies falls still and flaccid, slumped in the seat. Waiting a moment or so, Phil pokes him with the taser, but he doesn't wake up.

Phil can finally release the heavy breath he's been holding for the entire car ride. He didn't want to have to attack an innocent employee, but it seemed to be far more logical than attempting to trick him, or get him onside. It's a cold theory and Phil sits uneasy in his passenger seat, so he opens the door and jumps out of the truck, pulling the driver ungracefully from his side and dragging him to sit by the edgeside of the road. The effort of moving a whole human is almost too much, but he manages somehow. It's too important for his muscles to let him down now. After a moment's thought, he grabs a bottle of water and the man's phone from the car and places them beside his slumbering form. There's no point deserting him here with no way of getting help, just for obeying his boss.

Climbing up onto the back of the truck, Phil lifts up the corner of the black coverings, checking quickly that there are no other vehicles approaching on the road, and lifts it up to reveal Dan's elegant face peering up at him.

" _Where on earth did you get the notion that I would be ultrasensitive to the light? How do you think I got this gorgeous bronzed skin?"_ He smiles at Phil and all the tension and weight dissolves from his shoulders.

"Well I had to come up with some reason for keeping your gorgeous self hidden, so sue me if it was inaccurate. It fooled a bunch of elite scientists, so let's go with it was a genius plan." It's extraordinary how much lighter everything feels now that he can see Dan again and he knows that he's okay. He wants to reach down and open up the container, but they're still very far from safety, and for all they know, Professor Desarbres and her guards may be onto them already.

" _It's okay. Keep the cover down for safety. The darkness doesn't bother me."_ Dan's eyes narrow with amusement, moving slightly in the water so that his hair languidly floats a moment behind, " _I'll just have a nice little rest while you try to remember to drive on the right side of the road."_

Phil is not about to be amazed by this piece of insight, he's been concerned about it for the entire drive out, but instead he just mutters, "Oh, hush, you. See you soon," sliding the covers back down over Dan and re-securing them to the truck below.

Clambering into the driver's seat, which is uncomfortably warm, Phil quickly orients himself to the dashboard's set-up and starts the engine, pulling out onto the highway once more. He can hear snarky whispers from Dan looming in the back of his mind as he swerves around misaimed corners and bumps over potholes, the enormity of his load impeding his driving. Soon enough they are smoothly heading to the coastline, and Dan becomes rather quiet, leaving Phil to the company of his own thoughts.

They manage to arrive at the rock pools safely, Phil biting his lips as he guides the wheels over the sand, trying to stick to the stronger, wetter parts, until they are right at the edge of the rocks. He clumsily negotiates a three point turn, bringing the back of the truck as close to the rocks as he dares, slamming on the breaks and jumping out to the car to pull the cover off the tank at the back. Luckily for them, the beach is near-deserted as the rapidly darkening night brings cool sea winds up to the shore. A handful of surfers brave the breaks on the other end of the cove, comfortably far away.

Pulling off the heavy cover completely, so that Dan's entire form is visible, tail and all, Phil starts trying to lift the heavy glass lid, but struggles, his fingertips sliding from the narrow edges they latch on to. Grimacing with the effort, Phil's burden is suddenly weightless as Dan rolls onto his back and pushes upward, lifting the glass easily. Not caring for where it falls, they let it slide away. Dan props his elbows over the tank's wall, flicking his hair out of his eyes and looking around, taking in a deep breath.

"That's more like it." Phil's not sure if he had expected Dan to speak aloud, now that the barrier of water was gone, but the words fall from his lips flawlessly. "What next?"

Face to face, Dan is so utterly ethereal and immaculate that Phil is momentarily stumped.

"I, erm, this is as far as I can drive." He gazes around; the sea is still at least one hundred kilometres off. The immediate concern had been getting Dan out of the lab and to the sea, he hadn't really thought through the logistics of this part.

"I'm not too good moving around on the shore unfortunately," Dan contemplates the jagged terrain before them, his keen eyes darting to find the ideal path across the rocks. "I could try it alone but," He captures Phil's eyes and draws him in, "It would be far more successful with your help."

Phil stares at him a moment too long.

"Right, of course! What can I do?"

They negotiate an exit from the small tank, Dan looping his strong arms around Phil's neck. Phil tries his best to focus on standing strong and supporting Dan as he lifts his tail out of the box, abdominal muscles straining intensely to slowly clamber off the truck, till he is leaning up against Phil. He tries, and fails miserably, not to relish the warmth of Dan's skin against his, wet and coarse skinned he might be, but the warmth emanating from his form is overpowering. Dan doesn't say anything, if he can hear Phil's embarrassing observations, but offers Phil a small smile.

"And now?"

"Now, we go very slowly, and you tell me if I can do anything to make it less painful for you." Phil replies. His thighs are already aching from the added burden, but he's not about to give up now.

Dan leans forward until his cheek is almost against Phil's, finding a resting place in the crook of his neck and shoulder. " _It will be easier this way, trust me?"_ Phil opens his mouth to agree, but instead his entire mind just focuses on how very much he trusts Dan, with everything, and there is a warn assent from Dan.

There's a sudden numbness that spreads across his limbs and his chest and then Phil is plucked from his body- not entirely, but as is he was watching a video game, where his legs begin moving under someone else's command, slowly beginning the trek across the rock pools.

" _Huh. I didn't know that would work."_ Dan's words are stressed, and Phil can see his neck muscles straining in the corner of his vision. There are no more words from him as one step after another passes through Phil's muscles, the heaviness somehow less painful out of his control. Amazed and completely out of his depth, Phil watches silently, wishing he knew some way to help Dan.

There's another one of those warm chuckles. " _You don't need to help more- already, doing so much."_ He sounds out of breath, if that is at all possible with words that don't even rely on lungs, " _I need you."_

And so they make their way, one tortuous step after another, Dan totally absorbed in the task at hand. Phil tries to relax or tense his muscles, marvelling in the utter loss of power but retained sensation, and it's almost too soon that they are close to the edge of the pools, when suddenly Dan's voice sounds out.

" _Phil- I can't, you have to-"_ Phil braces his body, and suddenly the weight and pain comes hurtling back, Dan collapsing entirely against him. One foot falling backwards with the shock of it, Phil clenches his teeth, pushing back up with his arms and wrapping them around Dan's shoulders.

"We're almost there, I've got you, it's gonna be okay." He whispers, trying to sound reassuring. Stumbling over a few rocks and stray coral, he winces as he watches Dan's tail catch, a small trickle of blood emerging between the scales. It's surprisingly red, trailing down between purples and blues.

"Sorry, sorry…" Dan doesn't seem to have the energy to even notice, so Phil carries on. They reach the edge of the rocks and he lowers Dan to sea level, taking care to place him gently down.

He doesn't have time to worry, because a moment later Dan's head rises up, breathing in the salt and the chilly spills of the waves as they crash beside them. It's almost as if Phil can see the energy pouring back into him, his hands taking a firm hold on the rocks one moment, and he's pushing off into the waves the next, scales slipping between the deep blues.

Phil lets out a long sigh; they made it. Dan's head resurfaces from the waves, wet and fresh and grinning wildly.

" _That's more like it."_ He's almost singing in Phil's mind, and the sadness that Phil was sure he'd managed to shove far away threatens to well up again, so he speaks up before it can rear its ugly face.

"We're almost directly west of where they picked you up, so if you just follow in the direction of where the sun was setting, out past the last few reefs, you should be able to make your way from there?" Dan nods and Phil racks his mind for something else to say, aside from goodbye.

With a flick of his tail, Dan comes up to the rocks fully, his arms resting on the edge. Reaching behind his neck, he pulls off the necklace, gathering it up and holding the shell thoughtfully in his hands.

" _It's yours now,"_ he says, so quietly that Phil almost misses it. " _I wouldn't want you to ever forget me; I know I won't forget you, Phil."_  He holds out the necklace and Phil bends down so it can slide over his head. The shell is heavier than he expected, and he looks back up at Dan. Screw hiding his feeling, it's all he can do not to burst into tears at the sight of his beautiful merman, picturesque against the waves and hair billowing in the wind.

"I can't take it." He says, clammy fingers reaching for the string, but Dan's warm hand reaches up and stops him.

" _You must."_  It's not a question or a request.

"Will I ever see you again?" The childish wish escapes his lips of it's own volition, Dan has his own people, own life and future. But Dan smiles at him, and replies-

" _Maybe."_  Phil's not the only one with emotions clogging up his throat and his mouth. " _Don't forget me."_

It's too soon and too cruel, but he dives backwards, disappearing once more beneath the waves, gone in one swift flurry. Phil's mouth is already half-open, and he closes it with a snap, the words shoved back down his throat. It's over.

He's numb to the core, folding down onto his knees, ignoring the cold and the increasingly threatening waves around him. Dan's gone. He'd only known him for a few days, but the hopelessness of remaining here alone is paralysing. He doesn't know what to do next or where to go, how to deal with the mess he's left behind, how to deal with the mess that remains of his own thoughts. So Phil just sits, watching the horizon and the last sprays of orange melting into black.

" _I love him."_ Phil realises, the logic of it all relieving as much as it is miserable. As obvious as dashed careers and knocking out security and a world turned upside down by a single smile; it's only now that the feelings can be given a name, a cause, and an end.

And now it's too late.

No sooner has he thought those words than there's a mighty splash in front of him, water spraying up, making Phil close his eyes against the assault. In the moment of his temporary blindness, two warm hands trap his face, anchoring him as his eyes flutter back into focus, Dan's face directly before him. He blinks once, his eyes as beautiful and dark, and then he's leaning forward, soft lips pressing down onto Phil's. The kiss is wet and cold, but Dan is slow and gentle, his movements sending sparks tingling all the way down Phil's spine. His head spins as he kisses back, his hands finding Dan's neck and hair, grabbing hold and pulling him closer. The salt mixes with the warm, sweet taste of Dan's lips, and when they eventually part, Phil can't help but dart forward again to steal another kiss, and then one more again.

Dan's eyes are almost hidden beneath his cheeks, a brilliant smile matched by Phil as they stay there a moment, faces inches apart, hands clutching selfishly and hearts racing. Finally, Phil lets go.

Dan lets his hands slip away, but he doesn't fade into the rippling sea immediately. With a wink, he pushes off the rocks, kicking down powerfully and slipping beneath the blue for a moment, before resurfacing in a magnificent cascade, flipping through the air triumphantly, back arched and arms outstretched, his beautiful form transfixed for a short eternity in the night's air. When he slips beneath the waves this time, Phil is smiling too.

One hand closes around the shell, rubbing his thumb along the textured surface. Maybe it's time to head back to England, he wonders, feet swinging against the rocky edge. Perhaps a new direction for his research is in order. Phil's heart is still pounding and his lips taste like salt, but everything is going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks to Courtney and Alana for their fabulous help with editing and creating art for this story!


End file.
